April 2nd, 2000

Guilty pleasures. They vary so widely.

I ended up at this point of deep thinking after taking a ride to the mall this afternoon to get a watch fixed.

I'd worked at the Wet Spot til 3am - a fairly quiet night - and then suffered the world's worst service getting some of the world's worst food at an all night Dennys, and eventually ended up getting to bed around 6am. Woke up at 4ish and decided the day was too nice to stay in my little basement hermitage.

I grabbed the first tshirt on the stack. This one was the one with out-of-focus lettering stating MASTURBATION CAUSES BLINDNESS. Over to the local yuppiemall and lots of nervous giggles amongst the sales clerks, a couple of fellow middle-aged guys telling me they liked my shirt, and no biggie. I'm walking into one store and I hear behind me some punk loudly saying "Guess that's why you're wearing glasses, huh?!"

I didn't look, so couldn't tell if it was a double-digit IQ jock or a gun-rack-positive BillyJimBob. I kept on walking and ignored them. My first reaction, of course, was to turn and sweetly ask if they really thought that their mother didn't know about their own jerking off. My second reaction was to snort "Well, duh! Not just the glasses but they're BIFOCALS!" Neither of which response I gave in to, but I did muse on the next couple of hours about guilty pleasures.

Things I feel guilty about. Things that give me pleasure.

Smut used to be on the list. Having bisexual urges. Jerking off often.

Life changes.

These days just about everyone I knows is aware of my work in smut and my pride in it. I'm an activist for sexual minorities.

The sorts of things that are on my guilty pleasures list these days are...

Don Walser, Texas blues yodeler. I joked last night with friends about this fellow who actually sings an ode to a John Deere Tractor... but his "Texas Top Hand" CD was the first I put on this afternoon when I was all alone cleaning up the kitchen, and I whistled all the yodels.

Redheaded women with copper pubbies and pink puffie nipples. Why is it a guilty pleasure? Because I'm an equal opportunity slut, a fairminded SNAG, and among the folks I have been dating recently are a dark haired Pagan/Jewish pixie, a gray haired mountain-man, a catgirl with voluminous sable tresses, a rubenesque Native American lady, and several others of non-copper hue, along with a handful of the named redheads. Having such a fetish makes me feel like apologizing to all the rest.

A jar of black licorice and a jar of chunky peanut butter with a spoon sticking out of it, both at bedside. Pan-frying my steak in bacon drippings. No explanation necessary.

Getting choked up at certain movies. "Mister Holland's Opus", "Awakenings", "A Chorus Line", "GI Jane", "Grease", "Priscilla", "White Nights", "West Side Story", "Silverado". I never know when it's gonna happen and I always hope no one around me notices.

Ally McBeal. COPS. Judge Judy. I can't go on - I'm too ashamed.

Life continues good, but the closets change.

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